Bygones
by dormiensa
Summary: A chance encounter buries old rivalries...


It was a cool, foggy morning. The mist twirled and lingered, shrouding the graveyard under a veil of silver. A young man stood in quiet contemplation in front of a simple tombstone. His reverie was interrupted by the arrival of another, who placed a small bouquet of flowers at the foot of the tombstone, next to his own.

"Fancy meeting you here, Potter."

"Hello, Malfoy."

"I didn't think Snape counted among your favourite people."

"He saved my life during the war, like your Mother did." Draco gave Harry a startled glance. Memories of The Fall flooded his mind. Harry had approached the Malfoys in the Great Hall after The Defeat and thanked Mrs. Malfoy for saving his life. She had tearfully thanked Harry in return for saving Draco. Draco then vaguely recalled Hermione mentioning that Snape had given Harry the means of defeating Voldemort, but she had never provided details. He made a mental note to ask her.

Coming back to the present, Draco said, in a softer tone, "I wondered who brought the flowers last year. You know, though I'd known Snape for years, I never knew his favourite flower was the white lily."

"I actually don't know. I just guessed he would like them."

"Ah. Well, um, how are Ginny and the children?"

"Well, thanks. James is a handful. He seems to take delight in being a flesh-and-blood Peeves and tormenting his brother."

"Takes after his old man, then."

"Save your scorn, Malfoy. Given Hermione's stubbornness and your, er, aggressive tendencies, Lachlan and Emma won't grow up to be docile people."

"My children are simply playful, as all normal children should be, Potter."

Harry snorted, "I heard they almost gave you a heart attack when you came home and found them dancing on the ceiling." Draco gave a haughty sniff but couldn't completely suppress a small shudder. Finding one's toddlers chasing one another around the chandelier would give even a casual passer-by nightmares, never mind a doting father.

"So, Malfoy, I hear you're helping the Ministry revise the Potions spellbooks for Hogwarts." Draco nodded. "Er, if you're not busy, would you mind coming back with me? I have something of Snape's that may be of use."

"Certainly, Potter. Shall we?"

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Hermione heard his familiar tread and greeted him with a kiss. She looked up curiously, "What happened?"

"What do you mean?"

"You usually come back so burdened with sorrow and guilt that it takes an entire afternoon of hugging, kissing, and playing with the children to calm you. You only look this peaceful, well, when you're asleep."

"Have you been watching me sleep, love?"

"Only when your snoring wakes me up." She teased. "Now, are you going to tell me what happened or must I drag the truth from you?"

"Mercy, Madam Granger-Malfoy. This is not the Wizengamot." Draco shuddered as flashbacks of his trial blinded him. Forcing them to the back of his mind, he replied, "I saw Potter at the grave, and he invited me home. He...he gave me some of his memories...of him reading through one of Snape's old Potions books, said he thought they'd be useful for my revisions." He paused as he recalled the scribbled notes. "Snape really was a brilliant potion maker -- that clockwise turn! It's no wonder Potter became such a genius in sixth. I asked if he still had the book, but he said he misplaced it. Then he changed the subject. Do you know what happened to the book?"

"It was destroyed with the fire in the Room of Requirement before The Fall."

"The fiendfyre." Draco frowned, "But why didn't he just say that?"

"Well, that probably brought back memories of why the book ended up in the Room to begin with. He -- the curse that gave you that scar was...invented by Snape. Harry found it in that book." Hermione scanned his face anxiously. A flash of pain darkened his expression, but it was replaced by a look of respect. He sighed,

"Bloody noble Potter. He apologized for giving me the bloody thing when I left. I wondered what triggered it. Told him not to mention it again."

Hermione smiled and kissed him gently, "Does this mean you don't hate him anymore?"

"You know I stopped hating him years ago. If it wasn't for his testimony, I'd be in Azkaban right now. But just because I don't want to hex him every time we meet doesn't make us best pals."

"I wouldn't dream of asking that of you. I'm just glad that you'll be able to talk to him about other things besides the weather and Quidditch."

"We talk about you, too."

"I knew you were never modest when it came to flaunting your accomplishments, but I didn't think your boasting would extend to my abilities as well."

"Shameless!"

"It rubs off after living with a prat for so long."

"Having regrets, My-own? You'd rather have red-haired children? Ow!" He rubbed his shoulder. "Well, better than that slap you gave me in third. Have you grown so fond of me now that you can't bear to abuse me as you were wont in school?"

"Would you like to become re-acquainted with my canary hex?" She asked sweetly. He blanched. "I didn't think so."

"Ahem, well, I meant to ask you if you knew why Potter brought white lilies to Snape's grave. He said he didn't know if Snape liked them but seemed to think he did. Why is that?"

"Snape and Harry's mother, Lily, used to be friends." She proceeded to give him a brief account of what Harry had discovered about the pair while sifting through Snape's memories.

"You told me about the horcruxes, of course, but I always assumed that Potter learned everything from Dumbledore and you." Draco remained silent for some time. Then he tightened his embrace, kissed her possessively, and said into her hair,

"I'm glad you didn't fall in love with Potter or Weasley. I think I'd rather Voldemort murdered me than suffer Snape's fate."

Hermione smiled. 


End file.
